Trapped
by Kara1626
Summary: Things go very, very wrong when Tony goes on a stakeout. By himself... WARNING: Contains spanking of an adult. Minor spoilers for Mind Games and Silver War.
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING: Contains spanking of an adult.**

**Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. I just borrow them.**

* * *

Tony sat in the car and watched the building through his night-vision binoculars, thanks to the broken light hanging off the corner of the warehouse. No movement, the van still parked outside. He'd long since made note of the license plate. It had been two hours since he'd seen the van pull up and two men go inside. He was starting to think they were planning to sleep there. But as soon as he began debating whether to leave, the warehouse double doors opened and light spilled out into the dark lot until the lights went off and the door was closed. Three men had exited the building. Two of them struggled with a large crate which was eventually loaded into the back of the van. A minute later, it pulled away with its lights off. Tony watched it pull out into the street at the end of the row of warehouses and then saw the lights turn on.

Again, he debated following the van, but without backup, he knew that was pointless. What would he do if they made him? No, he had another idea. He did another quick check of the perimeter then turned on the car and drove slowly across the lot. He pulled up in front of the building, checked the area again through his binoculars and then, deciding he was alone, he got out of the car.

The door, which he expected to have to pick was, surprisingly, unlocked. He saw a rusty chain and padlock coiled on the ground next to it. After pulling on a pair of gloves, he eased the door open, and did a quick scan of the large room through his binoculars. When he was sure it was empty, he put them down next to the door and pulled his small flashlight off his belt. The beam swept the room revealing a couple of desks, a filing cabinet, a boat and a set of three-tier industrial shelves. With the exception of two crates on the second tier, the shelves were empty.

He crept across the floor, constantly sweeping the room with his flashlight, listening for any sound. Nothing. He walked to the desks and started going through them. A desk calendar on the first one hadn't been changed in three months. He quickly flipped through the pages, but it had never been written in. He held it at an angle and shined his flashlight on it. There weren't even any impressions from having been written on. The drawers were empty.

The second desk held only two pens – one red, one blue – and a legal pad. He checked the pad for impressions too, but like the calendar, it had none. These guys were amazingly careful!

He moved to the third desk. The side drawers were empty, but the center drawer was locked. He deftly picked the lock and eased it open. It was empty except for a single scrap of paper. Tony picked up the paper. "27." That was all it said. Just in case, he pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket and slipped the paper into it.

The filing cabinet stood behind him and it too was locked. A quick pick and he was in. Once again, all he found was empty drawers. Why would they lock an empty filing cabinet?

He walked across the room toward the shelves, still scanning the room at every step, even though he was sure he was alone. The shelves were equipped with hydraulics so that they could be raised and lowered for easy loading and unloading. After a quick look-around at the floor below the second shelf revealed only scrapes, probably from moving pallets in and out, he clenched the flashlight between his teeth and scaled the ladder to the second tier. He moved carefully across the shelf, smiling as he remembered years of climbing around on playground jungle gyms.

The first crate had no lid and was completely empty. He slid his way across the shelf toward the second crate. Suddenly, he heard seven shots right outside the warehouse. His heart stopped as panic set in. With nowhere else to go, he squeezed himself between the bottom of the top shelf and the top of the empty crate and climbed inside just as the door flew open and the lights flickered on.

"Find 'em", a man growled. Tony heard three guns cock and the sound of feet shuffling. He curled up in the corner of the crate, hoping beyond hope that no one came up looking for him. His weapon was out and in position in case someone did, but there were three of them. Even if he got the one who came up, he'd still have two others to deal with. And once he'd shot the one, he'd have given away his position and would be a sitting duck.

Thinking quickly, he grabbed his phone, which he had earlier thought to silence, and pushed the speed dial button for Gibbs. He knew without a doubt that if he made it out of this alive, Gibbs would most certainly kill him and Ducky and Abby would help him get rid of the evidence, but at that very moment, he just didn't care.

* * * * *

Gibbs groaned as he was ripped out of sleep by his ringing phone. "Oh DiNozzo, what could you possibly want right now?" he said as he flipped it open. "What?!?!" Silence. "DiNozzo! You'd better have a damn good rea…Tony! Tony!!"

* * * * *

The bullet soared past Tony, barely an inch from his head and out the crate wall. The shot had come from below and had also just missed his knee. A second shot went through the other crate. He heard that one ricochet off the bottom of the shelf and then the floor below.

"What the hell are you doing?" a man shouted. "Idiot!"

"I was just…"

"Shut up! Come on. We gotta get out of here."

The next sound Tony heard made him panic again. He looked up and saw the shelf above lowering toward him. It stopped, resting on top of the crate, effectively locking him in. He listened as the three men left and heard the door lock. Then he heard the door get chained shut.

He put the phone up to his ear. "Boss?" he whispered into it, but no one was on the other end. He dialed Gibbs again and the phone was answered almost before it started ringing.

"DiNozzo! Are you ok? Where are you?"

"I'm fine, Boss," _for now_. He swallowed hard before he continued. "I'm trapped in the warehouse. There were three men. They're gone, but I can't get out."

"You're what?!?!?"

"Boss, I'm sorr…I…" he cringed as he imagined the look on his boss' face.

"Stay put. We'll be there in 10," Gibbs growled into the phone and then it went dead.

"Stay put? Like I have a choice," Tony said to no one in particular.

Ten minutes. That was a long time. It was enough time for the men to come back. It was enough time for the stupidity of what he had done to sink in. And it was enough time for him to think about what was going to happen once Gibbs got his hands on him…

* * * * *

Gibbs and Tim pulled up in front of the warehouse behind the government car Tony had driven. A quick look revealed that all four tires and both headlights had been shot. The seventh shot had gone through the engine block. That car wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

He sent Tim to check the back of the building for another door, but he soon returned, reporting that they were standing at the only door. He quickly picked the padlock and the lock on the door. Weapons drawn, he gave Tim a silent count and they burst in the doors.

"McGee, find the lights," Gibbs ordered once they'd cleared the room. "DiNozzo!"

"Up here, Boss," Tony said just loudly enough to be heard. Ten minutes had also been long enough for him to fully grasp how embarrassing it was to be stuck in a box.


	2. Chapter 2

Four sleepless hours later, Tony stood at stiff attention in front of Director Shepard's desk. Gibbs sat at the table behind him, staring daggers into the back of his head.

"Agent DiNozzo, that was so completely irresponsible. You _never_ go on a stakeout without a partner. You went without even telling anyone you were going. What were you thinking?"

"I…"

"And to make matters worse, you destroyed an NCIS vehicle you weren't even authorized to drive."

"_That's worse than almost being shot?"_ Tony thought.

"And thanks to you, we lost the only lead we had on the meth ring. Now we have to start from scratch."

"I got the license plate," Tony said feebly.

"Yes, you did. And it belongs to a 2005 Lexus sedan, so it's completely useless to us."

She glared at him for a long moment as he continued to stand at attention, not daring to meet her eyes. Finally, she broke the tense silence. "I am suspending you for two days, and your pay will be docked until you pay off the repairs to that car. Oh, and for the cost of one pair of night vision binoculars."

"Yes Ma'am," Tony said miserably.

"You are dismissed," she ordered.

Tony turned toward the door, purposely avoiding Gibbs, but it didn't help. "Wait outside," Gibbs growled. Tony's head dropped and he cringed again. He slipped out the door as quickly as he could and was met with a sympathetic look from Cynthia as he flopped down into a chair in the outer office to wait.

* * * * *

"Don't say a word, Jethro. I _have_ to suspend him."

"I know," Gibbs agreed quietly.

Jenny did a double take, having expected an argument. "You know?"

"Mm hmm."

She knew that look. "What are _you_ going to do to him?" He gave her a look. "That's what I figured. But Jethro, remember that he's already being punished."

He shrugged. "He's being punished for breaking NCIS rules."

Jenny nodded. "You told him not to go, didn't you?" Another look. "And he disobeyed you." Those piercing eyes… "So this is personal." She nodded again. "Well, do what you have to do. But we do need him back at work on Thursday," she said knowingly.

"Is there anything else?" Gibbs asked, standing up.

"Sign this before you go," she said, holding out suspension paperwork.

Gibbs signed it quickly and dropped the pen on the desk. Without another word, he left the office. He walked right past Tony and out to the catwalk above the squadroom. Hesitating for just a moment, Tony quickly followed.

"Boss," he began, but Gibbs kept walking. Tony followed him down the stairs and tried again. "Boss…" He watched helplessly as Gibbs went to his desk, removed his badge and weapon from the top drawer, walked across the room and deposited both items into his own drawer. He walked back across the room, grabbed Tony's bag and jacket and headed for the elevator. Tony shot a desperate look at Tim and followed Gibbs to the elevator.

The doors slid shut and the elevator started moving down. Tony pressed himself against the back wall and waited for Gibbs to hit the stop button. But his boss did not move. The doors slid back open and Tony followed Gibbs across the parking garage. Gibbs unlocked the car doors, opened the back one and tossed Tony's belongings inside, slammed the door and walked to the driver's side. Without being told, Tony reluctantly got in the car and closed the door.

He slowly put on his seatbelt and waited for the tirade to begin. But it didn't come. Instead, Gibbs simply started the car, pulled out of the parking space and out of the garage. The ride to Gibbs' house was completely silent and Tony was not at all surprised to end up there. Once they arrived, Gibbs got out of the car and stood next to his door while he waited for Tony to slowly extricate himself from the passenger seat and walk toward him.

When he was within arm's reach, he grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him into the house. He held Tony's arm until they were in the living room. He paused just long enough to let go then headed to the basement. Tony stood frozen in the middle of the room. So many thoughts ran through his mind, the first of which being that he had never seen Gibbs so angry that he said _nothing_. Usually there was at least some yelling in the car, or at least once they were in the house. But not this time, and Tony was scared.

Within a few seconds, Gibbs was back in the living room and he was holding the paddle. Again, without a word, he grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him over to the couch. He propped one foot on the coffee table and pulled Tony over his raised leg, letting go of his arm only so that he could put his own arm around Tony's waist to hold him in place. A split second later, the paddle slammed into Tony's backside with so much force that Tony let out a surprised cry. The next cry he let out was from pain as the paddle landed again. The paddle continued to land hard and fast and in no time, in spite of himself, tears spilled down Tony's face – partly from the physical pain, partly from the emotional pain of being spanked over his boss' knee without the benefit of even a word.

The paddling stopped much sooner than Tony expected it to and he was released. He stood up and looked at Gibbs – a mix of fear, confusion and expectancy on his face.

"Sit," Gibbs ordered as he dropped the paddle on the table. Swallowing hard, Tony obeyed.

Gibbs sat down on the table directly in front of Tony and watched the tears roll silently down the young man's face. "I can not believe you would disobey me like that. I can not believe you would do something so stupid, so irresponsible, so _dangerous_. What the hell were you thinking, Tony?"

Tony looked up at Gibbs, his mouth hanging open slightly. The words that he'd been waiting for were delivered bitingly, angrily and yes, even sadly. He swallowed hard, his mind racing. What excuse could he possibly give that would diffuse any of that? He shook his head slowly, unable to form a coherent sentence. What _was_ he thinking?

Gibbs continued to stare at Tony, searching his face. He was clearly upset, but he couldn't tell if it was because of the punishment or because of the reprimand. After a few minutes, he stood up. "Come talk to me when you finally figure out what you want to say," he said, trying not to allow his anger to show too much.

"Are…are we done?" Tony asked, sounding very much like a little boy.

Gibbs looked at him for a moment. "Not even close," he said quietly, then turned and went downstairs.

Tony sat frozen on the couch, looking alternately between his clasped hands and the paddle on the coffee table. His attempts to stop the tears were futile. His butt hurt, but it was the thoughts going through his head that drove the tears. He had disobeyed Gibbs. Again. He had disappointed Gibbs. Again. But why? Was it because he thought it was a smart thing to do? No, that wasn't it. He knew the second he'd decided to go that it was a bad idea. Was it because he wanted Gibbs to be proud of him? Maybe. He'd imagined himself catching Petty Officer Grayson red-handed in a meth lab down at the docks. He'd imagined calling Gibbs and telling him that he had the suspect in custody. But why was it so important that _he_ be the one to catch him? Slowly, he realized that he knew the answer. And he was embarrassed by it.

He listened to Gibbs one floor below working on the newest boat. How could he go down there and tell Gibbs the real reason he'd gone to the warehouse? He'd never be able to look him in the eye again. Shame and anger fought for the win in the emotional battle raging in Tony's head. The noises coming from downstairs did nothing to calm his nerves. He could tell Gibbs was getting impatient down there. He stood up, but he couldn't convince his legs to work. So he just stood there, mentally beating himself up for what he had done. And why he had done it.

Finally, he decided that if Gibbs came upstairs, it would be so much worse for him. With one last shaky breath, he walked across the living room, through the kitchen and slowly down the stairs. Without thinking, he lowered himself onto a step, only then realizing that most of the pain had subsided, although there was a deep twinge of pain when he made contact with the step. Gibbs continued to work as if Tony wasn't even there. Tony knew he was waiting for him to start talking.

"Um," he croaked and quickly cleared his throat. "Boss?" Gibbs put down his plane and looked at Tony expectantly. "I, uh…" Tony stopped, not sure where to begin. Gibbs nodded just slightly and Tony took a deep breath and tried again. "I know why I did it," he said so quietly that Gibbs walked across the room so that he could hear him better. He leaned against the wall at the bottom of the stairs and waited.

"I know why I did it," Tony repeated, "and…I…Boss, you're going to think I'm an idiot."

"What makes you think I don't already?" Gibbs asked then grinned almost imperceptively.

Tony caught the grin and relaxed just a bit. "You know, don't you?" he asked.

"I want you to tell me," Gibbs answered gently. Tony looked away. "Let's go talk upstairs."

Tony nodded and Gibbs followed him back to the living room. Tony settled on the couch and Gibbs took up his place on the coffee table in front of him. He raised an eyebrow and waited.

Tony took a breath and let it out slowly. "It's been a while since I did anything significant on a case," he said, staring down at his hands. "It was Abby and McGee who found Boone's dumping ground. _They_ were the ones who found Briggs and O'Neill. All I did on the case was put Paula in danger by letting her go off by herself. She got kidnapped because of me. And it was Ziva who killed Burns. I wasn't even the one who caught Kearns. You did that." He stopped and continued to stare at his hands.

"Tony," Gibbs said gently, "look at me." Tony hesitated, gathered the needed courage, and looked at his boss. "You seem to have forgotten that we're a team." Tony looked down again. "It's not about what you do, or what Ziva does, or what McGee does. It's about what _we_ do. As a team." Tony nodded.

"I'm sorry, Boss," Tony said quietly.

"Mmm," Gibbs responded ominously. "Not nearly as sorry as you're going to be."

"Boss, I'm already suspended…"

"That was the director's decision."

"And you already, you know," Tony whined, nodding toward the paddle.

"And you're already sitting comfortably, which should be your third clue that that was not the extent of your punishment," Gibbs said.

"What, um, what were the first two?" Tony asked nervously.

Gibbs shrugged. "The fact that it's still out," he said nodding toward the paddle. "And the fact that I told you we weren't done." He saw Tony's shoulders sag. "Tony, you had to know what would happen when I found out. In fact, I think you knew before you called me how this would end."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, I knew. But in this case, knowing is _not_ half the battle."

Gibbs grinned. "Good point." He stood up and looked down at Tony. "Come on," he said and walked toward the door.

"Where are we going?" Tony asked, his head popping up.

"Dinner. And to go get you some clothes."

"Why?" Tony said, almost whining. He knew why. "Can't we just get this over with?"

"Get in the car."

"Boss, come on. Why make me wait…oh. Never mind." Gibbs had glanced over his shoulder and given Tony a knowing look. Tony sighed and followed him to the car. The anticipation was part of the punishment.


	3. Chapter 3

"Go drop your stuff off in your room." Tony headed upstairs; Gibbs, downstairs.

On his way to the basement, Tony glanced at the coffee table. The paddle was still there. He wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign.

Gibbs watched Tony walk down the stairs and settle on his customary step. He caught the slight wince and silently kicked himself for being so impulsive. He ran his hand across the board he'd been working on earlier. "You are suspended for two days."

"I know," Tony said, hanging his head.

"It goes without saying that for those two days, you will not leave this house for any reason without permission." Tony nodded. "It also goes without saying that you will not turn on the TV while you are here."

"But Boss, what am I supposed to do all day?" Before he'd even finished the question, he suspected he knew the answer. The look he got from Gibbs confirmed it. "Forget I said that," he said quietly. He was going to spend the next two days serving as free labor for Gibbs.

"Go get ready for bed."

"It's not even 9:30!"

Gibbs shot Tony a look, only partly able to believe that he was arguing with him after what had happened less than twenty-four hours earlier. With a petulant huff, Tony went upstairs, and Gibbs made a decision.

Ten minutes later, he put down his tools, made a brief stop in the kitchen then headed up to the guest room. He knocked softly on the door and pushed it open. Tony was stretched out on the bed, clearly pouting.

Tony immediately searched Gibbs' hands, but he wasn't holding the paddle. Instead, he saw a mean-looking wooden spoon. He deflated visibly. "Boss…"

Gibbs shook his head, silencing Tony's whine. "I let the director discipline you for the rules you broke and for what happened to the car. But this is personal," he said, gesturing with the spoon. "You disobeyed me after I specifically told you that we would search the warehouse in the morning once we had a warrant. And you did it because you were trying to impress me all the while knowing that the best way to impress me is to do what I tell you to do. Right?" Tony opened his mouth to protest. "Right?" Gibbs asked a bit more forcefully.

"Right," Tony admitted reluctantly.

Gibbs stared at Tony for a moment, waiting. But Tony didn't budge. "Tony," he said warningly. Tony still didn't move. It always amazed Gibbs how quickly Tony slipped into little kid mode when he was exhausted, especially when he was also in trouble. And since Tony hadn't slept in over thirty-six hours, his imitation of a stubborn little boy was spot on.

Deciding they would be there all night otherwise, Gibbs took a hold of Tony's arm and pulled him off the bed, and turned him around. "Pants down," he ordered. Instead of obeying, Tony turned around to face him. In one swift motion, Gibbs turned him around again, pulled down his pants and boxers and bent him over the bed with his arm pinned behind him. "You know it will always be worse if you fight me," he growled.

Before he brought the spoon down he glanced at Tony's backside. As expected there was a small bruise on his left cheek. He silently yelled at himself again and then delivered a long, stinging spanking, being careful not to hit the bruised area.

Tony could not believe how much the spoon hurt, but unlike the paddle earlier, it was a superficial pain. It stung and it burned, and it brought tears to his eyes quickly. But there wasn't the deeper ache that the paddle always produced. And it went on forever. For a while, Tony struggled against the strong arm holding him in place, but after a while, exhaustion and resignation took over and he dropped his chest to the bed, burying his face in his free arm.

It was exactly the reaction Gibbs had been waiting for. The wooden spoon continued on its mission a little longer before Gibbs decided Tony had had enough. He placed the spoon on the dresser behind him and released Tony's arm, leaving his own hand resting gently on his back.

"I'm sorry," Tony cried into the bedspread. "I'm sorry."

"I know…it's ok…shhh…" Gibbs whispered as he gently squeezed Tony's shoulder.

After a few minutes, Gibbs stepped away and allowed Tony to stand up and pull his pants up. To his surprise, Tony sat on the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. Gibbs sat down next to him and put his hand back on his back, rubbing it gently as Tony dissolved into sobs again. Gibbs looked at him in alarm. He'd never reacted this way to a spanking before. And this was by no means the worst he'd ever given him.

"Tony?" he ventured, unsure of what he should do. "What is it?" Tony shook his head as he tried to calm himself down. A few minutes later, Gibbs tried again. "What's wrong?"

Tony took a shaky breath and sat up. "I'm just tired," he said. He stood up and turned away. "I want to go to bed."

"Ok," Gibbs said, still very concerned. He stood up and walked to the door. "Good night, Tony." He closed the door, went downstairs, dropped himself onto the couch and leaned back, looking at the ceiling. What was that all about? Lost in his thoughts, the next thing he knew, he was waking up. His neck was stiff and sore. It took him a few seconds to figure out why he was on the couch, but then it all came back to him.

He slowly climbed the steps, stopping outside the guest room door. Very quietly, he turned the knob and pushed it open. Tony was curled up on his side with his back to the door, fast asleep. Tiptoeing into the room, Gibbs settled gently on the bed and looked at Tony in the dim light from the window. Tony stirred, opened his eyes and rolled over onto his back, squinting up at Gibbs.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 2."

Tony closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" Gibbs asked.

"I disappointed you," he said sleepily. "I disappointed myself."

Gibbs smiled slightly. Now it made sense. He put his hand gently on the side of Tony's head. "Go back to sleep," he whispered. Tony nodded and rolled over on his side again. Gibbs stayed for just a moment listening to Tony breathe before he got up and went to bed.

* * * * *

Tony opened his eyes and looked around the room as he got his bearings. He rolled over and checked the clock. 10:30! He panicked and sat up quickly. A note on the table next to the bed caught his eye.

_Tony,_

_I let you sleep as long as you needed to. Give me a call when you get up so I know you're still alive. This should keep you busy until I get home tonight:_

Tony skimmed the list of chores Gibbs had left for him and grinned. It was a nice mixture of physical labor (mow the lawn), tedious tasks that were obviously punishment (clean the grout in the shower) and an essay outlining all the ways he had helped solve the two cases he had felt so sure he'd failed at, among other things.

But it was the bottom of the page that caught his eye and made him smile.

_P.S. Rule #18_


End file.
